Sins of the Night
by Figgy
Summary: Four people's point of view of nightly activities (Somewhat angsty)


**__**   
_Warnings: Lemon, angst___

_A/N: Each new part (meaning parts separated by a *) is the beginning of a new POV This must be remembered or the story will become too confusing.___

**_Sins of the Night_****__**

_ I know he feels guilt every time he walks through the door and into my room. His eyes will focus on the lush carpet and he'll just stand there, lost in his thoughts. Then he'll look up and see me and you can literally see the shadows run from his eyes. He'll smile and step forward and for a few hours all thoughts of guilt will disappear from his mind. But when he leaves, I watch him closely though he probably doesn't even feel my eyes upon him. When he leaves, the shadows return and he slumps, once again condemning himself to hell for his adultery._   
_ At first I found it pitiful. Truly pathetic and I would bite the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling at him. I don't yell. So, instead I told him calmly that I wasn't forcing him to do this and he could easily stop coming. He looked so surprised that I found it hard not to laugh. Too hard actually, since I did chuckle coldly. He shook his head and told me that it wasn't that easy. I was like opium to him. He was addicted. How lovely, he compares me to drugs. I told him that eventually any drug will cause death. He merely looked away and the subject was never approached again._   
_ I never feel guilt at our meetings. I suppose that would be the usual response for anyone who is the other woman or man. If one truly felt guilty then they would refuse to see the person. I do not feel guilt and that does not make me heartless. I have a heart, I just choose not to use it those nights._   
_ I can hear the quiet click as he turns the doorknob. He meticulously wipes his shoes on the yellow rug before stepping onto the carpet. His eyes are on the carpet then slowly he looks up and I meet his gaze. He smiles and steps forward and I feel as if we are trapped in an endless play. Forever carrying on our parts; forever trapped in this sin. His sin, not mine… Though it would only be one added to a list of many._   
_ The bed is large and comfortable as I crawl across its expanse. His eyes are on me and I feel as if a spotlight is shining on me. He always makes me feel naked, as if he can see straight into my soul. The pale yellow nightgown slides across my skin sensually as I rise to my knees and stare back at him. He's only a foot away as he takes another step. Now, our noses nearly touch as he reaches out and caresses my face. He always takes things so slowly… As if he's memorizing my face and body… As if today will be his last day with me, perhaps it will be. I never know if he will return the next night. I sometimes wonder what I would do if he stopped coming…_   
_ His touch causes shivers to travel up my spine and I lean into his touch, smirking slightly as his eyes never leave mine. His hand travels down my face and to my throat. My body seems to hum as his fingers dance across the hollow at the base of where my throat connects to my body. His warm lips lower upon mine and I allow him to gently lower me to the bed. My hands slip underneath his clean, ironed shirt and slip it over his head as his lips part from mine and he leans back to stare down at me. My legs wrap around his waist and he tilts his head, smiling._   
_ The nightgown is removed and joins his shirt. His lips feel almost ghostly as they travel from my already bruised lips to my bare chest. His fingers trail patterns along my hips and abdomen as I watch him through half lidded eyes. My legs have already left their tight hold around his waist as he raises to return my gaze._   
_ He wears briefs. I used to taunt him before we began this sin of his… My question was answered one year, four months, and three days ago. He wears briefs, not boxers._   
_ Clothing lies forgotten on the ground as I place my hands on his chest and push, rolling him, and straddling him. He has the warmest skin… It shouldn't feel soft, but it does… Like silk and I have always loved the feel of silk. My hands tease his body as he just barely moans my name. Muscles ripple through his body as he tenses then suddenly relaxes. There are no struggles for domination this time. He wants it gentle. So it is gentle and sweet._   
_ Like music. I feel as if we are making music as his fingers run lightly across my skin and my lips are pressing against his, firmly but not painfully. Then my back is pressed against the bed once again and he is looming over me. He always looks worried, as if he's scared he will hurt me… That is when I let a bit of pain enter the music and my nails sink into the flash near his shoulders. His teeth always flash when I do that, like pearls…_   
_ Then he pushes forward and enters me and its like the music has reached that moment… That moment where it's so beautiful tears reach your eyes and you're smiling and crying at the same time. Ecstasy is fulfilled in that moment as bodies move in rhythm and he yells my name and I find my own throat slightly hoarse…_   
_ And pleasure floods my senses as my body spasms then trembles as he croons my name quietly. He holds me tight, his arms wrapped around me as if he'll protect me from all the world's harsh pain and terror. The thing is for a second I could almost believe he could protect me._   
_ Time will pass as we lay entwined then he'll slowly rise and dress. I watch him from the bed that still smells like him and me. He'll turn and stare at me, his smile is missing now though, and then his lips will kiss me lightly on the forehead. He walks away… The guilt returning the shadows that he'll never be free of._   
_ His dark little sin. What would the others think if they knew he comes to me? I rise, shower, and dress. The morning has come and I have things to do and people to meet.___

_ *_ __

_ She doesn't realize that I know. At night I sometimes lie, listening to him open the door and he'll pause. He always pauses and I can feel his eyes on my still figure as he contemplates his feelings of right and wrong. The guilt is always there, but she means more than guilt. Am I jealous? Yes. I would be lying if I said no. I am jealous and I dream of a life where I mean as much to him as she does._   
_ But I have something she can never have. He is my husband and no matter how many passionate nights she has with him, she can never have that. He won't divorce me for her. He already feels too guilty for continuing his little sin with her. When he returns, he'll open the door and his eyes are on me again. He'll just stand there and stare for the longest time then the door closes and I can hear his footsteps traveling to his office._   
_ There are times when he doesn't go to her… Months even, but I know she knows there are reasons for his absence. But still, those nights when I'm in his warm arms and we make love, a part of me is cruelly taunting her. Tonight he is mine, forever he is mine. He will never be yours completely._   
_ But it's just the voiceless babble of a lost soul._   
_ I am lost. I was lost the first time I looked into his depthless eyes. When he proposed, life seemed perfect… But then I found out about her. He can't leave me, but he also can't leave her._   
_ And I can't leave him. So, this pain tears at my soul, but I'll smile in the morning when I see him and he'll compliment me and be the perfect husband as he tries to atone for his guilt._   
_ I hate her. I see her at times and every cell inside my body seems to pulse with hatred. Her eyes will fall on me and she'll smile so smugly. At times, when she looks at me like that I think she knows I know. The heartless bitch._   
_ I'm lying in our bed now. It's a soft bed, but it feels so cold without his body pressed against mine. I do not cry for tears cannot express my sorrow and depression. I suppose loneliness can inspire poetry from even me. The pillow rubs against my cheek and for a brief second I pretend it's his hand caressing my face, but the illusion soon disappears. The room is dark so that even with my eyes open it seems as if they're still closed. The front door opens with a familiar squeak and I can imagine his handsome figure pausing as he listens, paranoia battling with his guilt. Another squeak as he closes the door and another pause. He slips his shoes off his feet and places them beside the coat rack. Not a soul can hear him as he crosses the floor and makes his way to our bedroom. I count the seconds in my head. One. Two. Three. Four. My lips mouth the numbers silently, then a faint stream of light dances across my vision as he opens the door. Seventy-five seconds. It's always seventy-five seconds._   
_ His eyes are on me and I find it hard to breathe as his guilty gaze travels over my partially hidden body. I can see his face in my mind and I watch as his eyes drop to the floor and the door closes and darkness returns._   
_ Darkness… It is my only companion now…_   
_ And his sin continues._   
_ I hate her, but the worst thing of all is I cannot hate him.___

_ *_   
_ I watch her smile and shake hands with the crowd and a part of me wants to kill her, but I can't… Because she's still an angel to me even though I know. The others shake their heads, but she will always be an angel to me. I cannot hurt her even though she continues to hurt me. But the blame cannot be entirely placed at her feet. It is my fault and his fault. I wasn't there, he was. Yet, he has someone at home. He has someone so why couldn't he allow me to have someone?_   
_ But, of course, neither realizes I love her._   
_ I watch them sometimes. I watch as they greet each other warmly before others, smiling and laughing as old friends. I know I'm not the only one watching and I wonder… Yet, wondering doesn't solve this problem. It is no solution, for there are no solutions. He was there when I wasn't and she took advantage. I see her at night, just before she retires to bed and she smiles at me as if she knows some secret joke. She'll laugh quietly and place one warm hand upon my shoulder as she hugs me gently. Then she releases her hold upon me and steps back, staring at me as if waiting… I tell her good night and she'll nod and wish me the same before resuming her walk to her bedroom._   
_ I've stood there hours just as I did last night. Stood there in the shadows watching as he begins the slow ascent of the stairs. He always stares at each step so thoughtfully as he makes his way to her. He will pause at the landing then walk forward and my mind continues the scene. I see him at her door, eyes still calmly staring at the ground, and the door will open. He will walk to her and the door closes… And my mind stops before it becomes too painful._   
_ Is he gentle with her? Or is it a night of wild passion? She's always been a woman of various outlooks… I believe it changes with the mood… I wonder what she would do if instead of him showing up, I did… Would she smile and take me in her arms? But I will never ascend those steps… Not as long as he continues his visits and she continues to allow him._   
_ She faces me now with that same warm smile and her hand raises in a slight wave before another takes her attention. Her eyes turn toward a figure entering the room from the far left and I turn my head and see him. He walks inside so calmly, holding hands with the figure whispering in his ear. Her eyes lock with his and her smile widens as he waves. The figure pauses in their speech and turns to face her as she joins them._   
_ The three laugh and talk as old friends should and soon she waves me over and I join them. Every day we are forced to play our parts as if onstage. We joke and talk about the weather and the peace. We are the perfect actors as he and she tease each other as if they carry merely brotherly and sisterly feelings for one another. The atmosphere is warm and jovial, but my eyes are always on her. There are thirty-two steps leading to the landing. Ten more steps will take you to her bedroom door. Or four large steps… The doorknob is brass and is shined twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. He leaves no obvious fingerprints. Her room smells like lilies the day after and she takes baths in dry rose petals._   
_ Her favorite flower is a lily. His is a rose. Sometimes, I think she is mocking him or me… or perhaps herself… Or maybe she mocks the figure holding so tightly to his arm._   
_ I cannot hate him and I cannot hate her. I hate myself. I watch as her fingers brush against his coat sleeve and she laughs at one of his stories._   
_ Her room is forty-five steps from mine._   
_ He grins and a quiet chuckle is forced past my lips._   
_ I have watched him come and go for a year. However, when I finally realized they were seeing each other I could tell the routine had been going on for longer. For how long I can't be sure. Maybe even before his marriage. What does he think when he holds her? When he smells the scent of lilies on her skin? Does he love her?_   
_ There are shadows in his eyes and her lips have developed a somewhat cruel twist to them. I think this play will soon be over… For eventually every mask breaks…_   


_ *_

__

_ When I hold her in my arms, I feel as if everything is a dream and she's the only real thing in my life. The scent of lilies in her hair and the silky touch of her skin and the way she stares into my eyes… That's all that exists. She's the only thing in my life that truly seems real. I have held onto too many ideals and beliefs… I need her to be my belief now. She is the end of illusions._   
_ My life no longer seems real. Reality is harsh, but this existence is becoming easy and soft. I need her to convince me that life is not perfect… Confusing? I think I might be insane._   
_ As I walk to her room, I study the floor wondering if this is the path to hell. Am I walking the path to my damnation? Then I open the door and I see her and she… When she holds me, when we make love… It suddenly seems as if the path actually leads to a fallen bit of heaven._   
_ But the weighing feeling of guilt is to be carried when I leave her lying in the bed where I saw a piece of heaven. Someone is waiting for me and they deserve better than this, but I… I didn't lie when I told her she was like opium to me. Without her, I would eventually shatter. But they don't know this and… They wouldn't understand. Which is why I turn to her. She doesn't try to understand. She's there._   
_ It's not just passion. We talk about things I could never speak of to others._   
_ I see her now as my legs carry me across the room, a soft voice is whispering in my ear but I can't comprehend a word. Last night was different… I have never been so gentle with her or she with me. My back still bears the mark of her nails and a morbid part of me wishes to always carry the marks. But soon they will heal and fade, only to await her nails once again._   
_ Her eyes meet mine and her lips curve into a smile as she walks toward us. So many things are filling my mind as she comes closer and closer. Adultery repeats numerous times. But this isn't a sin for her. Not in that sense of the word. She doesn't have someone bonded to her till death do you part. The guilt… Guilt can kill as can a broken heart._   
_ A hand tightens around my arm and I glance down to see dark eyes seeking mine. Then she has joined us and soon she is motioning for another friends of ours. His eyes watch me closely, as did those dark, dark eyes from a second before. My mouth forms words that I don't consciously think of and my mind wanders to places of late nights with the scent of lilies._   
_ She smells like roses now. Roses always remind me of death and the idea of rebirth. She is reborn every day after our meetings and I think that is why I continue this sin of mine, why I allow the guilt to eat away at my soul. She is the end of my illusions and the beginning of a new life._   
_ God help me, I am damned.___

  
_A/N: Hola! This just popped into my head and I had to write it! Can ya guess who the four people are? Well, it can actually be anyone you want it to be, but I was writing this with Sally, Noin, Wufei, and Millardo in mind (order of names is in the same order of POV) Strange? *^_^* Hope so! Ciao! -- Figgy_


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